Sleepless Nights
by littlewinter
Summary: "Jacob, Bella and Edward all living together under the same roof? Oh my." All human – with one exception. J/B. BPOV
1. Preface

_A.N:_

_I've had to take a break from fanfiction all together for the last year, because of some things happening in my life. But now I'm back, and I have a story for you!_

_First of all, a thank you to Stephenie Meyer for creating all these characters and then for allowing us to play with them here. _

_Second, I really hope she'll never read this._

_This time I'm going a little out of character – both mentally and shape-like, yahoo - and I'm also trying something I've been yet to try, which is keeping it all human. (Apart from that one exception. Ahem.) So, if you like silly little stories – who knows, you might like this one._

_I don't own anything. I don't even own the story title – I stole it from a "120 Days" song._

* * *

**Preface**

It is common knowledge that opposites attract each other.

He was tall. I wasn't. He was warm. I wasn't. He was technical and logical. I so wasn't. He was always bright and smiling and cheerful, and it took him no effort what so ever. He was genuine. I could be genuine too, only when I was, it wasn't always so pleasant.

He understood them, while I had trouble understanding myself sometimes. It was impossible to not love him. The only one loving me was my own personal stalker.

It is common knowledge that opposites attract each other. That's some awesome luck, really.


	2. The Mud-pie Eater

**The Mud-pie Eater**

* * *

_Won't you stop and remember me_

_At any convenient time_

- Simon & Garfunkel

* * *

_Oh boy. _I took a deep breath, staring into the mirror. Let's be honest. _You've got long legs, _I told myself, doing like they said in all those love-yourself, the-woman-is-a-goddess, get-good-energy books that Renee was reading. Be positive. Get good karma. Fair enough, I had long legs.

But that didn't really help much as long as they were whiter than my bedsheets. And lanky._ Like a schoolboy's, _the devil on my left shoulder added. I stared into the newly polished mirror in front of me. I looked like Cruella de Ville's dying cousin.

"No way," I muttered angrily, flipping down the zipper of the black dress I wore. This just wasn't going to work. Jessica was just going to have to take it back, awesome expensive gift or not. Go ahead, be offended. I wasn't going to wear it.

The doorbell rang. My red faced reflection stamped off to open.

"Hey, you ready?" Jessica beamed, barging in like she owned the place. She usually did that. "Sorry we're late. Wow, I have great taste, you look awesome."

I ignored her last comment, and waved hello to Angela who was waiting politely in the hallway. She gave me a subtle thumbs up. I groaned and stamped back into my bedroom.

"I should help you dress more often," Jessica stated, chewing vigorously on a gum as she followed. She reached out and zipped my dress back up. "There you go."

"I'm not wearing it," I sulked.

"Yes, you are," she argued, smacking my hand away as I tried to zip it back down. Yikes.

"It's too short."

"It's perfect."

I sighed. I knew I was only stalling. It was time to get this over with.

"Edward!" I yelled as I marched back to the hallway. Angela and Jessica exchanged grins. "I'm going out, you take care of the house. There's food in the kitchen!"

The living room was dead silent, but I knew he'd heard me. He was just too busy being full of himself.

"Do you really think it's safe to have that vampire roaming your house all night?" Jessica teased, and peaked into the living room trying to get a glimpse of him.

"Don't worry," I shrugged. "He'll probably just go poking in my underwear drawer like he normally does. He loves my underwear drawer. Okay, so are we leaving?"

The two girls buzzed out, and I picked up my purse, fumbling for my house keys. When Jessica didn't see, I popped into my room and grabbed my favorite cardigan. It was cardigan or death.

Since I moved here two months ago, I had been out only once. Out, like, on a club. And, big surprise, I hated it. Too crowded, too loud, too stuffy, too noisy, too … _big. _I had smiled, shook hands with people, yelled a bit into their ears, and then I'd gone home.

I did have some friends, believe it or not. Not from university, not yet, but from high school. Actually, it was only one friend. Angela. Jessica was a friend of Angela. But Jessica wasn't picky, so every friend of Angela was a friend of hers too. And for me, she was half of the whole. Fifty percent of a not very brag-able circle of acquaintances.

So here we were, Miss Outgoing, Miss KindandSweet and Miss ShyandSour (that's me), sitting in Jessica's car and going _out. _Like, out. On a club. Dancing. Drinking. People. Me. Shy'nSour. I stuffed the tattered cardigan tighter around me.

* * *

After parking the car at Jessica's place, we began walking down the street. Angela gave me an encouraging smile, which I appreciated. She knew this really wasn't my thing. And true, when we reached our destination, I was seriously considering to run back the same way we came – lets face it, I had sneakers, I could outrun them any day...

"Oh, come _on_, it will be _fun!_" Jessica insisted, dragging me by the arm inside under the collection of blinking signs.

We squeezed our way through the crammed room – I got stepped on twice by other pointy heels - before we miraculously found a free booth. Jessica disappeared to get us drinks, leaving Angela and me to observe our surroundings with wide eyes.

"Wow," Angela finally said. "This could be interesting."

Her eyes lingered a little by the people grinding together on the dance floor. It was a disturbing sight.

"You don't say," I mumbled.

We watched them for a few seconds. Our eyes met. Angela giggled. The next second, we both broke into silent laughter. Jessica appeared then, placing three scary looking drinks in front of us. Our laughter came to a sudden halt.

"What is that?" I asked, sniffing it.

She replied, casually, and it was called something kind of dirty which made me wonder how she had the guts to order three of it.

It was pretty bad. Not the drink, the drink was fine. But the rest was pretty much as expected, dreaded and anticipated. The music was too loud, and there was a whole crowd of hollering guys who tried to get our attention. We deliberately ignored them. Also, Jessica wanted me to lose the cardigan.

"Bella, it's not that cold."

"Yes."

"Come on, it's messing up your whole shape!"

"I don't have a shape."

"You do, it makes you look like Twiggy."

"Twiggy was blonde."

Jessica gave up. I had won the battle, but that was all: I would bet my whole paycheck Jessica was going to intentionally spill a beer on my cardigan sometime during the evening.

We had perhaps been there for a bit less than an hour, and to my surprise, we had a good time talking. Or, I would have if I hadn't missed half of what they were saying. Also, watching the grinding dance floor turned out to be quite entertaining.

"Is she trying to eat him?"

"You tell me."

"Maybe we should call 911."

"I'm sure he would be happy if we did."

"Eww, look at that guy right there. I think he lost his jeans."

"Yikes."

"Now he got a heel in the eye. That looks bad."

"No, it was his own finger."

Jessica set off to get us something more to drink, but I stopped her, feeling courageous (and slightly obliged as she had already paid once).

"I can get this one," I said.

And so, pulling the ridiculously short dress down, I sneaked my way over to the bar in the middle of the room. I managed to get there without facing any obstacles, which was quite an accomplishment considering the massive amount of hollering people in my way. Feeling proud, I managed to shout to the bartender what I wanted – Rum and Coke seemed safe and decent.

While standing there, I couldn't help notice someone staring at me from the other side of the room. It was a guy, sitting in a group together with some other people (not the hollering ones), and he was looking at me intently, frowning, wrinkling his forehead as if in concentration. I pulled at the dress again, wrapping the cardigan more tightly around me.

There was something about him though. I don't know exactly what it was, but it made my stomach prickle. I sneaked another glance at him from the corner of my eye. He was tanned, dark haired, and somwhow there was something horribly familiar about him. My stomach prickled again. Somewhere inside, a small part of me was thrilled that he was looking my way.

I started to question my own need for attention.

"Here you go," someone said, and I noticed the three glasses already waiting in front of me at the bar.

"Thanks," I said.

As I tried to pick up all three at once, the guy in the corner of my eye stood up. Oh no, he was coming here. I picked up the three glasses spilling half the content on the floor and hurried towards the safe harbor that was our booth, while wondering why I had left it in the first place. Finally, I reached the table and quickly sat down

"Great!" Jessica grinned. "Did you already drink half of yours?"

She pointed at my severely spilled drink.

"Tripped," I explained.

"Oh," she smiled.

"Excuse me?" someone said behind me. The voice was deep and husky. I didn't have to turn to know who that was. He had followed me. "Do you mind if I join you?"

I turned, for a second wondering if he would have gone away if I hadn't. As I looked at him, something inside made me sit up straight and put my feet together under the table. His hair was black, short and shiny, his skin had a tanned reddish color and was enviously flawless. His eyes were dark, deep over tall cheek bones. I felt my self-esteem shrink at rapid speed. He was undoubtedly very handsome. _Too _handsome.

He was eyeing me curiously, his dark eyes squinting as they swept over my face. Again I got that feeling of someone, somewhere, far away I couldn't quite place. It reminded me of the way Edward used to look at me when I suspected he was trying to read my mind.

Jessica giggled, stuffing her boobs up. "Not at all, take a seat."

He smiled at her, before sending me another curious look. Jessica and Angela scooted to the side of the booth making me follow, and he sat down beside me. My brain turned numb as I could feel it slip into small talk hiatus. Fantastic. Just what I needed.

He turned to me again. "Uhm. I know this sounds weird, but I feel like I've met you before," he said. His voice was hoarse, but pleasantly so. His expression was both thoughtful and apologetic, and he was squinting his eyes as if trying to think back while at the same time apologising for how it might sound.

Jessica raised one eyebrow. She looked back and forth between the two of us, analysing. I knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You know that's the worst pick up line ever, right?" I reminded him, even though there was something about him giving me the same feeling. Where had I seen him before? There was something horribly familiar, something I knew I should know but couldn't put my finger on.

He laughed. "No, seriously. I've seen you before. I'm Jake," he reached his hand out to me, and I shook it. Before I was able to reply, Angela and Jessica had sent each other a loaded look.

"Cig break," they said simultaneously, popping up from their chairs like trolls in a box. "See you later, Bella."

I rolled my eyes. That wasn't a cig break, it was an _oh my god _break. As soon as they left though, Jake clapped his hands once in triumph.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Of course, Bella! I can't believe it. I _knew _there was something."

I stared at him.

"You're Bella Swan, right?" he grinned. "Charlie's kid?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You know Charlie?"

He laughed. "I can't believe it," he said again, grinning widely and showing off some pearly white teeth. He leaned forward in the sofa, one arm resting on the table.

"I'm Jacob Black, d'you remember me? Billy Black's son?"

It took me a second. "I thought you said your name was Jake … Hey wait." Something clicked in my brain. "_Jacob? _You're _Jacob_? Little, annoying mud-pie Jacob?"

He beamed. "Yep."

_Oh my. _"Wow," I slipped out, before mashing my teeth together and cursing my stupid mouth. Thankfully, Jacob seemed oblivious to this fatal comment on his looks.

"I know," he grinned. "This is weird, huh? You know, Charlie has about every school photo of you ever made in his living room. I knew I'd seen you before, I just couldn't place you at first!"

Guilt crushed through my stomach at his second mention of Charlie. I hadn't been in Forks for years. But it made sense, that Jacob would recognize me from photos. No wonder I couldn't place him immediately. It wasn't like mom had many photos of Jacob. I guess Charlie might have some, but I had never gone through his photo albums or anything. We weren't quite there_, _Charlie and I.

I sneaked a glance over at Jacob, and realized I wanted him to like me. This was Jacob – annoying, little, mud-pie Jacob – but he was _different. _He was _older. _

He was _gorgeous._

I wanted to make a good impression. Suddenly, the roles were reversed. I felt dizzy. The small talk hiatus was still on.

"You cut your hair," I blurted out. _Clever. _But true. The Jacob I knew had chin long hair and swimming trunks with spider-man on them.

He only grinned. "Yeah. Ages ago. It's more convenient."

His eyes were studying me, black and twinkling in the shadow under his eyebrows, and my pulse increased. I opened my mouth to say something smart, or just say anything really, but then gave up and gulped down the rest of my drink instead.

"You don't come here often, do you," he stated, leaning his weight on his arm and never taking his eyes off me. "At places like this, I mean." I looked at him, the words still stuck. "Me neither," he said, as if I had just confirmed his statement. He looked around, waving his hand towards the dancing (did I say dancing? I meant grinding) crowd. "This isn't really my thing."

Now _that_ was something I was familiar with. Things not being quite my thing was my specialty. I sighed.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled. I lifted my glass to have another sip, but realized it was empty.

"Do you want a beer?" he asked, standing up. It took me a second.

"Erm, sure. I mean … I don't know." I looked up at him, looked over to the grinding crowd, and then back at him. I smiled. "Since we're already having _so much fun._"

Jacob flashed me a brilliant smile, showing off some enviously white teeth, and then he was already gone before I'd even offered to pay.

* * *

To my great surprise, I did have fun. Jacob was great company. We sipped our beers and exchanged a tirade of sarcastic and brutally honest comments about our current location. Then he started telling me about home.

"I grew up with my dad," he told me. "Rachel and Rebecca moved away when they finished high school. Rebecca married a surfer from Hawaii, Rachel graduated early and now she works for a law firm. So it's been me and dad, and Charlie. He's been coming over about every weekend since I was, like, five. He talks about you," he smiled.

I smiled back guiltily, my stomach lurching with the strange feeling of homesickness. But that couldn't be it either, because Forks had never been home. I didn't understand.

"Yeah, I remember when I came visiting. We used to play by the beach and stuff."

"Yeah..." His smile widened, and he sent me a sideways glance. "You thought I was a pain in the ass."

"No, I didn't," I lied. "That's wrong, you just don't remember."

He grinned, catching my lie immediately. "You just wanted to sit alone with your books but I kept badgering you all the time."

I squinted my eyes, pretending to think back. "I really don't remember," I insisted.

"You liked making mud-pies though," he added, ignoring my feeble attempt to lie.

"Yeah, I remember those," I admitted.

He nodded, resting his hand on his neck and looking at me again. It felt like he was making up for the years of not seeing me. "Dad always got a fit every time we came home, we looked like we'd rolled around in it. Or maybe that was just me..."

"Yep. I'm quite sure that was just you." I smiled back at him as he laughed. It took a moment before I realized I was laughing too, really laughing, startling myself by the sound. I hadn't laughed like that in months.

"So, what are you doing here?" I asked him, finally managing to ask a coherent question.

He raised his eyebrows, taking a sip from his beer. "I'm actually here in a bachelor party. Not mine," he hurried to add, and I thought I could see a faint redness in his cheeks. His blush pleased me for some reason.

"Well," I said slowly. "I don't want to keep you from your friends."

That was a lie. I very much wanted to keep him from his friends.

"You're not," he said quickly. His readiness to answer pleased me too. "It's just some guys from work. I don't really know him that well. I'd much rather stay here and talk to you."

I smiled into my beer. I didn't put it down until my smile had become more decent. "Okay. But what I really meant to ask you was what are you doing here, in town. Do you go to school?"

"Oh," he smiled as he realized his mistake. "No, I work as a mechanic in a small garage not far from here. I needed a job, and a friend had a friend who worked there and, you know. Besides, it's not that far from home."

There it was again. Home. Forks. I tried to shake off the creepy feeling.

"Six hours on a bus is quite a while," I challenged. Not that I had tried. It was mom who had mailed me the timetables.

He looked astonished. "Six hours? You know you could _drive _there in four? Three and a half if you push it?"

"Oh," I realized. "You have a car. Of course. You're a mechanic now. Why shouldn't you."

I considered banging my head on the table. Jacob laughed at my expression.

"Yes. I have a car. I'm guessing you don't."

I shook my head. "What type of car is it?"

"It's an old Rabbit. 1986."

"Oh," I nodded. "Cool."

He measured my expression again. Clearly I didn't fool him. "It's a Volkswagen," he clarified kindly.

I nodded sheepishly. He was still studying me, so I added. "Okay, I _have_ heard of that."

He smirked and drank his beer.

"So, what about you?" he asked as he put it down, leaning on his elbows, looking at me again. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you mean here drinking or here in town?"

He smiled. "Both."

I shrugged. "Well. I'm here drinking because my friends, who normally aren't this rude, think this is actually fun, and- "

"Do you mean the two girls who ran in the other direction as soon as I sat down?" he interrupted.

"Yep."

"Okay." He nodded for me to continue.

"-and I'm here in town to go to school," I finished.

"What are you studying?"

"Literature. It's fine. I like it. It's a nice city." The words escaped my mouth on autopilot, like I had rehearsed them.

Jacob looked at me for a long moment. I felt a bit like a beetle under a microscope. "Do you say that often?" he finally asked.

I felt my cheeks burn. He'd hit a nerve. "It happens," I admitted.

He nodded to himself, smiling kindly. I was smiling back without even realizing it.

Jessica and Angela reappeared then, after what had been a suspiciously long cigarette break considering neither of them were smoking. They sent me conspiratorial looks when they thought Jacob didn't see.

"So you two know each other?" Jessica asked suspiciously, after they had shaken hands and introduced themselves.

"We used to make mud-pies," I shrugged.

"No," Jacob corrected. "You used to throw mud pies at me and make me eat them. I've seen the photos. It's not pretty."

Honestly, I wasn't surprised.

* * *

Half an hour later, I was leaning back in my seat while sneaking glances at Jacob sitting on the sofa beside me. I had already been sneaking glances at him for quite a while, watching as he talked to Angela and politely answered Jessica's inquiries. The surroundings, the voices and the music, had turned to a blurry comfortable haze, thumping away and buzzing as if on the outside of an invisible bubble. It might have had something to do with the alcohol, but not only that. I realized I was having fun. Not because of the grinding catastrophe or the embarrassing drinks, but because it just felt really nice sitting here sneaking glances at my new old friend without him knowing it. At least I hoped he didn't.

I marveled at how easy it was to talk to him. We had talked, about everything it seemed, in the past hour. We had talked about cars – he had found my lack of knowledge on the subject a true tragedy – about this town, about the old lady I rented my apartment from, about his dad, my life in Phoenix, the absurdity of high heels and about his work. The words had just flowed out of my mouth, effortlessly. I don't think I had talked this much to anyone since I came here apart from with mom on the phone, but that didn't count. And now, watching him laugh beside me I realized it was because he was so _effortless. _I smiled. His whole appearance was so unrestrained and happy, it made me smile just looking at him. For me, that was impossible not to admire.

I listened to their talk from my bubble. The thumping, the colors, the voices. It was almost... unreal. Me, here, today, bumping into him, like _that, _now. The childhood friend I didn't even knew I missed. _Needed. _It was almost like... something already decided, like faith, or... not just a coincidence. I smiled to myself, but then shook my head a little as I became aware of what I was thinking. Me, Bella, fantasizing about faith? Pfft. Okay. No more drinks for me.

"Bella?" Jacob repeated beside me. I snapped back to the noise and the chatter.

"Hm?"

"Should I get one for you too?"

He looked at me while pointing at his beer, questioning, and I looked back, and I melted. I could almost feel my knees starting to drip down into a puddle under the table. I wondered what he would think if I actually fainted, right here and now, just slid down from the sofa in a heap on the floor. He would realize I was crazy, that's for sure. Jacob Black, my new old friend, smiled at me, warm, genuine, and the haze returned. I shivered, smiled back, nodded and had to resist a sudden urge to throw myself in his direction.

"Sure. Thanks."

* * *

When this very scenario had repeated itself one more time, I had reached the conclusion that really, there was no doubt that Jacob and I had met by means of Destiny. I had also consulted Jessica, who knew these things, when she had dragged me with her to the ladies room, and so it was now generally accepted that that was the way it was.

"You're so much fun when you're drunk," she informed me, and I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Most of the time I was pretty boring.

"You okay?" Jacob asked in a low voice after Jessica and I had emerged from our bathroom conspiracy. He leaned in closer, his voice quiet, and he looked at me in a way that made me want to pinch my arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him. "Why?"

He shook his head. "Just checking. You're cheeks are a little red, that's all."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well it is kind of warm in here."

_You're kind of warm. _I pinched my thigh._ Listen to yourself_, I told me.

Jacob only nodded in agreement, smiling. My knees shivered under the table.

* * *

It got late, and then it got very late. When the last bus had left hours ago, the dancing (grinding!) crowd was getting thinner as most of them had gone home to grind in private and Jessica was considering taking a short nap in the booth, Angela decided enough was enough and that it was time to head home. I had been scooting closer to Jacob by the minute (gravity!) and had reached the conclusion that Jacob was the absolute funniest person on earth and by far the most wonderful human being I had ever met. On a mission to oblige Destiny, my new best friend, I was now trying to accidentally make my hand bump into his like any other kindergarten girl. Fortunately I hadn't succeeded yet.

Jacob was telling me about the apartment he was currently renting while we watched, amused, as Angela tried to coax Jessica into her jacket.

"It's not so bad now. But you should have seen it when I first got it; it was a dump. But I don't mind. It's cheap," he said, but then looked like he regretted saying anything at all. I frowned from my bubble.

"Come on, Jessica," Angela's voice interrupted. "Yes, you will need it, it's cold outside."

Jacob turned to me. "Are you leaving too?"

"Yes." I answered without thinking.

He nodded. "Look, if you are leaving, I'm out of here too. I'm just going to tell the guys. But I'll meet you outside, okay? I want to say goodbye."

With another quick smile he stood up, walking towards the group of guys across the room that turned out to be his long lost bachelor party.

I sent his back a longing look.

"Bella." Angela's voice came floating into my brain.

"Hm?" I turned to her.

She was looking at me with a knowing expression. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What do you mean?" I asked her innocently.

She raised one eyebrow.

I shrugged. "Oh, come on, it's only Jacob! We're friends!"

She raised the other eyebrow.

"Childhood friends! Kindergarten!" I squeaked.

If Angela could have another pair of eyebrows, she would have lifted those too. "I doesn't exactly look like _that _is what you – No Jessica, wait, you need to put it _on..."_

Angela got up to rescue Jessica from herself, and I followed. On my way across the room, I could hear the devil on my right shoulder rubbing her hands together.

_It's childhood friend Jacob! _I told her. _Mud-pies!_

_You don't want this to end, _she said knowingly.

It was true. I didn't. She sniggered.

Jacob caught up with us by the front door. He held the door open for me as we went outside, and lightly touched my shoulder with one hand as I passed. Just a friendly gesture. Electricity jolted down my spine. I managed to keep the shivering to a minimum.

When we where outside, I turned to Angela. "You know, I think I'm just going to take a taxi back home."

She squinted her eyes at me. "You sure?"

I nodded. "Really. I'm fine." I lowered my voice so that Jacob wouldn't hear. "I just want to say goodbye, that's all."

She looked at me for a few seconds. Then she nodded. "Okay."

"Will you be okay, getting her home?" I asked quietly, nodding towards Jessica. Jessica, the non smoker, had just crossed the street on her way to buy cigarettes at the closed bookstore opposite us. Angela rolled her eyes. "We'll be fine, we can almost see her apartment from here." She lowered her voice. "You sure you won't come?"

"No, I'll just take a taxi," I assured her, smiling, letting her see I meant it and that I was fine. She nodded. Apparently I passed the test.

"Call me tomorrow," she whispered. We hugged goodbye, and then she ran off to catch Jessica. I kept an eye on them for a few seconds as they reached the street where Jessica lived, and then I turned back to Jacob. My new old friend.

He was waiting by the entrance, his hands stuffed in his pockets and looking completely at ease.

"So, are you going home?" he asked, when I reached him.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna find a taxi." I looked out on the road, stretching my neck to check if I could spot one. _Please don't be there, please don't come yet... _"How about you?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, guess so..." There was something hesitant in his tone, that made me look in his direction. He was studying his shoes. I must have imagined it.

"Look," he started. "I'm really glad I bumped into you tonight. That was weird, huh?"

"Yeah. Weird. It was nice to see you, too." I said it so quickly the words got all blurred up.

"If you're leaving now, I – err, it would be cool to hang out some time," he said, a nervous smile on his face. "But not here, maybe?" He gestured back to the blinking signs over the place we had just left.

I nodded, my smile way too relieved. "Yeah. Definitely. We'll hang out. Some other place sounds good."

"Or..." he started, looking down again. I squinted, trying to get him into focus. "I mean," he continued, "err … if you want we could just go somewhere … erm … like, now, and just talk. If you want." His eyes followed his shoe as it poked at a hole in the pavement. Then he drew a long line with his toe, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, eyes down. "I mean," he said, a red color tinting his cheeks. "I think I have some coffee at home, or whatever. Maybe, if you ... I mean, it was just really nice meeting you again, so I thought it could be nice to just …" He took a deep breath. "I mean, what do you think?"

"Sure," I said simply, though he had never gotten around to actually ask a coherent question. I got the point though. Coffee or whatever sounded nice. Talk sounded nice. Jacob sounded nice. This all sounded nice. I didn't need to get a taxi right away did I? It wasn't _that _late? People probably did this all the time. No biggie.

"Oh. Great," he said. I looked up from his shoe, which had now stopped poking at the pavement. He looked really relieved. Then he sent me a warm smile, and nodded his head towards the bus stop. "It's this way."

As we waited for the bus I tried to remember if this was a bad idea or not. I vaguely knew I was supposed to think so, I just couldn't come up with any good arguments as to why that was. Hadn't I read somewhere that girls never should spent the night until the third date? Or was it the fifth date? Equaled drinking coffee spending the night? Or maybe it was the tenth date. Technically, this hadn't been a date at all. And I could just take a taxi.

I looked over at Jacob. He turned to me almost immediately, as if he'd been looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He smiled a very boyish smile, nervous perhaps, but just as warm and wide and bright as ever. As I looked at him, the same warm feeling as before filled my stomach. This was no stranger. This was Jacob. I didn't mind Jacob. I knew Jacob. We had just rediscovered our childhood friendship.

The bus came rattling along. Jacob put a warm hand around mine, smiled – still with that nervous look upon his face – and pulled me with him onto the bus. Oh well. _We're only going to talk, _I thought. _Drink some coffee, show me his stamps collection..._

The bus was crammed, so we had to stand in the middle. The engine roared up again, and I closed my eyes. I felt dizzy. My head was spinning and I squeezed my eyes more shut. Random words started twirling around inside my head, words like _Jacob _and _mud-pies _and _destiny ..._

"You okay?"

His voice was much closer than I had expected. I opened my eyes. Jacob had leaned down beside me, looking at me, his forehead wrinkling up in concern.

I nodded. "Yeah."

I smiled, and he seemed to relax a little. Apparently what he saw seemed convincing. He smiled back. Still nervous. I wondered if I looked as nervous as he did.

The bus, which I'd decided long ago I didn't like, took a sharp turn and made me stumble over. In fear of tripping over some old and fragile lady and mash her like a potato, I grabbed hold of the closest thing I could find. A bit too late, I realized it was the collar of Jacob's jacket. I made way to loosen my grip, but he only laughed and helped me back on my feet. He left his hand around my waist.

Outside it was dark, and I wondered where we were. The bus stopped again, and someone squeezed their way out behind me. Jacob's arm tightened against my waist. I clenched my eyes shut again. The bus started driving. Jacob smelled like aftershave. _From spider-man trunks to aftershave. _This was weird. It felt like I had missed a whole life. The world twirled behind my eyelids.

"This is us," he finally said, and I pulled back to look around. The bus was slowing down again, and I realized we were supposed to leave it. I was glad, though I knew it wasn't the bus' fault that I felt as if I'd just left a nasty roller coaster.

As my sneakers made contact with the pavement, I stumbled. Of course. I would have fallen too, if Jacob hadn't been right behind me to catch my arm and prevent me from going head first down the gutter. The last two beers might have been a bad idea.

"Hey," he said, when both feet were in place below me and the bus had rattled past us. "Are you sure you're okay?" He looked more worried now, as if realizing I might not be as clear minded as he thought I was. _Just drinking coffee. Just looking at stamps._

Not looking at stamps at all.

He tilted my head up to look me in the eyes. I had prepared a shrug and a laugh and a long explanation about my horrible coordination, but it all got stuck in my throat. He looked at me, and I looked back, and I feverishly wondered why I'd stopped following Charlie to La Push all those years ago. Jacob got a curious look in his eyes, as if for a moment unsure, and his eyes flickered for a second down to my lips.

I reached up and kissed him.

Of the two of us, I was definitely most surprised. I didn't do things like _that. _So I pulled back. Yep, that was more like me.

"Never better," I heard myself say. I must have developed a split personality during the evening.

For a second, I watched as a smile spread out over Jacob's face. And then, I couldn't see whether he was smiling or not, because we were kissing again. And if he was, smiling I mean, he was one of those who could do two things at the same time, because he was definitely kissing me, and he was really good at it_. _I never was that interested in stamps anyway.

It really was a mystery how we managed to get ourselves inside. It was kind of ironic actually. One moment Jacob was worried about me not standing straight, and the next we were practically stumbling ahead like if we were two people sharing one pair of legs. But Jacob was strong, and he didn't trip, and somehow I didn't either, which also was a mystery since half of my body seemed to suddenly cling to him like a magnet. He kissed like heaven.

We never stopped kissing, not even when Jacob had to search in his pocket for a key. He somehow managed to open the door without looking at it. We stumbled inside. I vaguely noticed we were inside the hallway of an apartment complex. It smelled old and mouldy. We stumbled over to the elevator, and I ran my hands through his hair and let the split personality take over. The elevator opened, and we practically fell inside and jammed half the buttons. I didn't even notice the red-faced teenager in the corner until we had already travelled three floors. He left pretty quickly. Good for him.

There was a pling, we stumbled back out and I felt suddenly very warm. Jacob grabbed me around the waist. _It's childhood friend Jacob_, I told myself. The little, annoying mud-pie eater. We were buddies once, he'd followed me around like a puppy. It didn't feel that way now though. Maybe if he hadn't been this incredibly _good looking..._

There was some fumbling with a key again, and a bang, and another bang, and we were somehow inside a slightly better-smelling place which I guessed to be Jacob's apartment. I didn't stop to admire his curtains; for all I knew he didn't have any. I felt myself being pressed up against something hard, still kissing, still in a frenzy, and it took a scary amount of time before I realized that it was a wardrobe.

Jacob was a wonderful kisser. Not that 'wonderful' was the word on my mind; my mind had become one-track, exclusively containing one-syllable words like 'good' and 'more' and 'oh'. But we kissed, and it felt great, and warm, really really warm, and all I wanted was to continue.

My stomach lurched, as if warning me again that this was a bad idea. And it probably was. We were childhood buddies. Our _dads _knew each other.

His hands traced down my waist. I decided now wasn't the best time for rational debate. He placed them firmly on my hips. Definitely beyond any debate at all.

"I'm not really this type of girl," I remembered. "I've never done anything like this before."

Jacob didn't reply. Maybe he actually didn't hear me. But I didn't really care, my head could only think one syllable at the time and right now that was more than enough.

He made a noise, as if in protest, and the next I knew I was being lifted again, and after some fumbling I was pressed against something soft. Bed? Sofa? Didn't care. His hands started to wander up, to the lining of my dress, hesitating. Warm.

My stomach lurched again, warning me, but I ignored it, and his hands moved up, over my dress, up my waist and up. His lips were warm, his hands were warm and I was all so warm, really warm, _too _warm, and I realized I wasn't feeling that good, at all, I felt dizzy, and my stomach lurched, and Jacob was kissing me, and I couldn't breathe, but I had to breathe, or else–

"Umph," I pressed out, pushing him aside, hard. I heaved myself up from what turned out to be a sofa, staggered along trying to gain my balance. I heard his muffled sound of surprise behind me, but I didn't turn, the room was spinning, _I _was spinning, and I hurried forward, tearing open the nearest door, praying he lived alone – and then I barfed all over his bathroom.

* * *

What could I say? At the moment, there really wasn't many things that could make this situation any worse. But of course, the things that could make it worse, happened:

I threw up. And not just a little barf. I was all in. Or should I say all out.

Jacob appeared in the doorway a moment later, taking in the scenery. He wrinkled his nose and said nothing.

He held my hair. I was mortified.

He was the perfect gentleman about it. He got me a huge glass of water and insisted that I drank it all up, the whole time refusing to listen to any of my feeble apologies.

I fell asleep in a puke-free corner of Jacob Black's bathroom floor thinking that if re-carnation is the way it goes, I must have been pretty horrible in a previous life.

* * *

_A.N:_

_English is not my main language, so I apologize for any mistakes that might show up. It's quite possible that I have some annoying mistakes I don't know about. If I do, please point them out to me so I can improve. This chapter has been betaed by JJ Twi1ight – thank you!_

_Next chapter will be up on October 6. From then on, there will be a new chapter about every other week._

_Reviews make me happy :)_


	3. Distressed Damsel

**Distressed Damsel**

* * *

When I woke, I kept my eyes closed. I felt tired, but okay. My head hurt though, and my mouth was dry, but apart from that, and apart from that nagging feeling that something happened yesterday, something _bad, _I felt pretty oka – hey wait.

Something did happen yesterday. Something bad. This wasn't all just a dream, just a figment of my imaginati – oh crap!

I threw up. In Jacob Black's bathroom. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to wake. It must be a dream. A nightmare!_ It has to be._

I listened. The room was completely silent. I was wrapped up in something soft, something clean, something cotton, which was weird considering the last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the corner of his bathroom floor. So, all in all, it could be just a dream. I could open my eyes right now, be in my own bed, and find Edward staring lovingly at me like he had done every single morning since he moved in. He liked watching me sleep. And I would be fine, and this would all be just a dream. _On the other hand, _a voice inside my head told me, _you could wake up to find _Jacob Black_ staring at you, wondering what the hell you're still doing here – _

My eyes flew open. In front of me was neither Jacob nor Edward, but a tired, dark blue bed-spread, shielding me from the world and the world from me. I did not own a bed-spread like that.

_I can still hope this is at Jessica's place, _I thought desperately. _Maybe this is Jessica's. _Slowly I peeked out behind it.

My heart sank. Definitely not Jessica's place. I was alone, the double sized bed I was sleeping in taking up most of the room. There was a chest of drawers, with some photos on them, and there was an alarm clock on the floor, and there was some grey, also very tired curtains – so he _did _have curtains. There were two doors leading out of the room, both closed. And that was it. Definitely not Jessica's. Most likely Jacob's. It didn't look like a place he spent much time in.

He must have carried me here while I was snoring. And then let me sleep in his bed. As if this couldn't get any worse. A piece of me died of mortification, again. Then I held my breath and listened. All was quiet. Maybe he was still sleeping? I hoped he wasn't lurking outside the door, but something told me he wasn't.

While all I wanted was to dive back into the blue bed-spread and stay there forever, I suddenly couldn't stand to be there a second longer. I kicked it aside and fought my way free, at the same time trying not to make a sound. I stood there, panting, looking around. I really didn't want to face Jacob right now. _Or ever_. I wondered briefly if creeping out the window could be an option. It might have worked, had he not lived on the seventh floor.

The photos on the drawer across the room caught my attention. They seemed old and wrinkly, and I got the impression they were the only items in here that were personal. There were five of them, one was black and white, and the rest had faded colours. There were small children, a boy with long hair, a man in a wheelchair, a woman. His family, I guessed, his dad probably – I couldn't make out the faces from here. There were more children, two girls, some other guys, and then there was a man, paler than the rest –

I looked away. I realized I didn't want to know who those people were. I needed to get home. I had already been here far too long.

I made the bed carefully. Then I peeked into the bathroom. It was all clean, as if yesterday never happened. Jacob must have cleaned up while I slept. Another little piece of me died. I wondered how many was left.

Slowly, and so silently even I could not hear it, I opened the door to the hallway and peeked out. It was empty. Sunlight was shining through the kitchen doorway, otherwise nothing. I really didn't want to bump into him right now, mostly because I was too embarrassed but also because I truly felt like hell. I could see one of my shoes laying by the front door. _Maybe if I run... _

Hoping the bedroom door wouldn't creak, I sneaked out. I tiptoed down the hallway, and then nearly got a heart attack when I trod on something, which turned out to be my other shoe. I put in on, and sneaked further. I reached the front door, quickly slipped on the other shoe, turned to the door without daring to look back, pushed down the handle –

"Normally I'm the one to sneak away in the morning," someone said.

I froze. Then slowly, I turned. Jacob was standing in the living room doorway, leaning on the door frame and looking ruffled. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes a little puffy, and his t-shirt was all wrinkly. He was looking at me, with a slight smile on his face. He'd never looked better. It was so unfair. I turned away and hid behind my hair.

"I guess you have a routine when it comes to this type of thing, then" I said, looking down on my shoes and poking my toe at his carpet. When I peeked up at him, just for a second, he looked guilty. Great. Now it sounded like _I _was accusing _him. _Just great. Because _that _was totally appropriate here. When I peeked up again, on the verge of falling to my knees and blurting out a pleading apology, his expression had changed from embarrassment to frustration.

"Not with you," he said, staring at me again. I wished he wouldn't.

I couldn't hold it back any longer. "I'm sorry," I blurted. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

When I peeked up again, he was smiling. _Probably laughing at me. _

"I know you didn't mean to," he assured me.

There was another silence. Would it be rude if I just opened the door and ran?

"I'm sorry," he said then, taking me by surprise. When I looked up, he looked down. He gestured between the two of us with his hand. "This was a bad idea."

My stomach clenched when he said it. He really regretted taking me home, didn't he? _Of course he does, _I told myself. _He had to spend half the night cleaning up your vomit. Of course he regrets it._

"You're not the one to apologise," I said. Gradually, I felt the old, snappy version of me come back, this time only slightly nauseated and with a headache. "Again, I'm really sorry. I'll go now."

I opened the door and stepped out. The same mouldy smell from yesterday welcomed me. This really was a shabby place.

"Hey, wait," he said behind me.

I turned, annoyed about the part of me that was happy he had called me back. The other half just wanted to run, fast. He had followed me into the hallway, now frowning.

"Can I at least call you?" he asked. I just looked at him, waiting to see the joke. When I didn't react, Jacob fumbled around in his pockets, coming up with an old receipt and a well used pencil. He held it out to me. "Please."

I raised my eyebrows in scepticism, but still scribbled down my number on the receipt. Why he wanted my number was beyond me. Perhaps he intended to sue me for ruining his bathroom. Or maybe he just needed it to wipe his nose with if he got sick. Or wanted to send me some spray tan in the mail. Or a user manual called One Night Stand for Dummies. _Chapter one: Do Not Puke. _When I was done, I tucked it back into Jacob's open hand, mumbled a quick "bye" and left. He did not call me back a second time.

It took me more than two hours to get back home. I was already running when I got outside and simply could not get away from there fast enough. I had absolutely no idea where I was, and I had walked for nearly half an hour in the wrong direction before I found out and had to go all the way back. Eventually, I found a bus.

My feet felt heavy by the time I reached the steps in front of my apartment. But I got up, and got in, and was just about to slam the door shut behind me, when I found myself face to face with Edward.

I froze in my tracks. He was standing in the hallway, silently, just looking at me. I looked back, and the air in the hallway felt suddenly very thick. Suddenly, I felt more ashamed of myself than ever. He just stood there, staring at me. Then he silently walked past me and slipped outside.

For a moment, I couldn't move, and it was as if I hadn't realized until now what had actually happened, what I had done. The thump from the door as it closed behind me, made me realize I was back, home, to my old life, like before. Only not like before at all. I could not go back to before. I could not erase this.

And then the tears came.

I cried steadily for about one hour, until I didn't have any tears left and was too tired to continue. I undressed, crying, stuffed my clothes in the washing machine, still crying, and then showered, twice. Definitely still crying. I got dressed, swallowed down two painkillers, and then I went straight to bed promising myself never to leave it again.

I woke up by the phone ringing. The first thing I did was to stuff my head in under the pillow, trying to ignore the shrilling sound as best I could. I just wanted to stay here for the rest of my life and not talk to _anyone_ – the next second I had heaved the pillow aside, sprung up from the bed and thrown myself over my bag in the corner, fumbling to get to my phone. What if, I mean, it was possible that, I mean, who else? He did have my number, he had _asked _for it – and then I saw the screen and my heart fell. Oh. It was only Angela. I pushed the green button but immediately wished I hadn't.

"Hi," I mumbled as I slumped back down on the bed.

"Hi Bella," she said on the other end, sounding happy. I was puzzled that anyone could still be happy. "How are you? You promised to call me, remember?" she said brightly.

"I'm fine," I lied. I sounded horrible.

There was a pause on the other end. "Bella?" Angela repeated, more careful this time. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Did something happen?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," I repeated. I wondered why I kept saying that.

There was another pause. "I'm coming over," she declared.

"You don't have to," I started, but she had already hung up.

Angela found me on the sofa. I was bundled up in a bunch of blankets, and my favourite pillow, sipping Coke and munching greasy take away pizza. My hair was one big knot after taking another (very thorough, trust me) shower, and I was wearing my favourite sweats. Angela paused by the doorway for a few seconds, absorbing me while I sipped my coke and stared glossily at some stupid soap opera about perfect people.

"Want to talk about it?" she finally said.

I shrugged, not taking my eyes away from the TV. There was a woman there, crying. She was wearing stilettos and a fancy dress and looked fabulous. Her make up didn't even smudge. I wondered if I would look like that if I puckered my lips like she did. Angela came over to sit beside me on the sofa. I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

"Jacob came here with you last night, didn't he?" she asked knowingly.

I shook my head.

"Did you go with him then?"

Slowly I nodded, looking down. Angela was quiet for a long time.

"Did something bad happen?" she asked quietly.

I nodded again.

"Did he do something bad?"

This time I snorted, but it sounded more like a sob. "No."

Angela frowned. "So it's nothing like that."

I shook my head.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the woman on the screen. Now she was in the middle of a fight with a very handsome male model, who supposedly had betrayed her or something. He looked pretty fabulous too.

"Did you...kiss?" Angela asked after a little while, changing her question mid way.

I nodded.

"But you didn't like it?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

Angela frowned. "He didn't like it, then?"

I scowled at her. "Thanks a lot, Angela."

She sighed. "Oh, come on, tell me then. He said something? He couldn't get it up? I don't get it."

She had actually nailed it, even if she didn't know.

"No," I wailed, throwing myself into the depths of the blankets, hiding from the world and vowing never to get out. I would stay _here _forever, then! "_I_ got it up. I threw up! All over his bathroom!"

There was a short pause as Angela absorbed this.

"That's it?" she finally said.

"Isn't that enough?" I wallowed disbelievingly under the blanket.

"Bella," she laughed. Laughed! "That's nothing, I expected something really bad. Are you sure that's all? I mean, did he get angry, or throw you out or something?" Her voice became concerned.

"No," I mumbled. "He held my hair and carried me into his bed while he slept on the couch."

"But that's not bad," Angela said mildly. "He sounds like a really nice person."

I couldn't hold it in any longer. "That's the point," I wailed, even louder. "He was perfect and I puked on him!"

I crawled myself into a ball and sobbed while Angela gently patted my arm on top of the blankets. If she found the situation funny she was good at concealing it. She let me stay like a pretzel for almost a whole minute before she spoke.

"Do you want to come out and talk about it?" she finally asked.

"No?" I sobbed. It sounded like a question.

"Are you sure?" she said kindly. "Come on, try anyway." She paused, then prodded my shoulder. "There's some pizza left. Food helps."

I peeked out. She was dangling a piece of pizza in front of me. I resurfaced, unable to keep even my own promise, and she placed it into my hands. "Now tell me what happened from the beginning," she said firmly.

I did. I ate my pizza while I explained briefly about the bus, about the kissing, then the puking, the holding of hair, the getting of water and other gallantry. I was crying already by the 'holding of hair'. I would never have been this honest with Jessica, but Angela was okay. She wouldn't judge or tell. Or laugh. Not much, anyway.

We sat in silence, eating pizza and watching TV. The woman in stilettos had stopped crying now, her make-up still spotless. Instead she was very angry at the handsome male model, throwing things at him across the gold-clad room while firing off one-liner after one-liner. Amazing how she always had a witty comment to jam in his pretty face.

"I still don't think it's that bad," Angela said, chewing. "It could have been worse, you know. It sounds like he took it really well. And he wanted to talk to you, right? When he first asked you home? He must like you, then."

"That was before I puked down his bathroom," I muttered.

Angela shrugged. "I still don't think it's that bad. He seemed really nice. And it wasn't like it was your fault, you didn't mean to."

I just grumbled. Angela took another bite.

"You could always go and see him. You are childhood friends, right? And you know where he lives. Just go and clear things out."

I snorted again. I was getting really good at that. "He would only ask me if I was there to puke down his kitchen too."

Angela sent me a sceptical look. "Really?"

I grumbled some. "Maybe not," I admitted.

The male model was now down on his knees, and had for some mysterious (but highly convenient) reason taken his shirt off. The fabulous looking woman didn't look so angry as before. Maybe she had a weakness for bare-chested men with private trainers and tanning beds in the basement.

"He did ask for my number though," I shared.

Angela turned to me. She seemed about to say something, but then changed her mind. "Before or after?"

Time would from this moment be measured as _before the incident _or _after the incident_. "After," I said.

A big grin appeared on her face. "Then what are you crying about? He'll call you!"

I looked at her doubtfully. "Why would he do that?" I still had a nagging feeling I was about to be sued.

"Why should he not?" she smiled confidently. "He asked for your number, didn't he?" When I still looked dubious, she sent me a stern look. "And if he doesn't call, you can just call him. Unless he's royal, his number should be pretty easy to find."

I averted my eyes and hurriedly gulped down the rest of my coke.

Angela stayed for a few hours. She found a blanket for herself, and joined me in comfortable silence. We watched the stupid soap opera, and she helped herself to the pizza. When we both felt rather nauseous, and the stupid couple in the stupid soap opera were engaged, even more fabulous looking and had never been happier, Angela stood up to leave. I followed her to the door, bringing the blankets with me.

"Where is Edward?" she wondered, as she realized she hadn't seen him around all the time she had been here. He was always around whenever I had female guests, constantly trying to make me jealous. No wonder Renee loved him.

"He's out," I said miserably. "He's probably offended that I didn't come home last night."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Cheer up, Bella," she demanded, before she leaned over to kiss my cheek. "It will be fine. Jacob will call you. And Edward is just full of himself."

At least she got that one right.

With a reassuring smile she left, closing the door gently behind her. I stood in the hallway, bundled up in blankets, and not really wanting to go back to the couch. My gaze landed upon my phone, and Angela's words started ringing in my head. _Jacob will call you... Jacob will call you ... _He had my number. I checked my watch. Five in the afternoon. That was not an indecent time to call someone. He could call now. Why would he ask for my number if he wasn't going to use it? He _did_ ask for it. My number was currently written on an old receipt, laying in the pocket of Jacob's wrinkled jeans.

Or maybe he had put it on the kitchen table.

Strapped to the refrigerator...?

I smacked my forehead as I realized what I was doing. Bella, the damsel in distress, standing by the phone chewing her fingernails. Again I could hear Angela's voice in my head. I could call him. Or I could just go and see him for myself. I could choose not to be a distressed damsel.

I didn't. I went back to watch TV instead.

* * *

I woke the next day by the sunlight hitting me in the face. I found this weird, as my curtains were usually closed, but then realized I had fallen asleep on the couch the previous day. I creaked my way up in a sitting position, but fell back down as I realized there was no point. There was no need for me to get up. Getting up wouldn't make me any less miserable. I could just stay here. I had nothing to get out of bed for. Except, perhaps, –

"Edward," I gasped, breathless, and I realized I had forgotten. For just a few seconds, I had forgotten. How was that even possible? I scrambled off the couch with a thud that made the walls tremble, and hopped my way into the bedroom feeling a bit like John Long Silver. My bed was empty. The rocking chair too. He wasn't there. He must still be out.

Of course he was still out. I had _locked _him out!

I turned to check the front door, but changed my mind half way and ran over to the window instead. He usually sneaked out my window at night, and sometimes he came in this way as well. I pulled the curtains aside, opened it wide, and leaned out.

He was there. He was sitting motionless on the grass in the small garden outside, in the shadow of Mrs. Turnip's old apple tree, just avoiding the bright sun. He was as still as a mouse, looking thoughtful.

"There you are," I said relieved, more to myself than him.

I know he must have heard me – now, when I woke, when I ran here. He could probably even hear my thundering heart as I leaned out of the window. But he didn't look up. He didn't spare me as much as a glance. He sat there for a few moments, looking away, completely motionless. Then he stood up, walked over to the window, and eased himself inside without so much as a look in my direction. He slipped past me silently, making no sound at all, leaving me alone in the bedroom. I felt like a horrible person.

Every reason I had had for not getting up this morning came crashing back, and I sank down on the bed. I looked around the room. Looking was better than thinking. And I was very much in danger of thinking.

I liked this room. The pale yellow walls, the white, clean curtains and the pretty, soft pillowcase. I liked the wardrobe in the corner, which Phil had hammered together while Renee and I watched and drank iced tea. They had helped me move in here about two months ago before school started. They had been really helpful, driving stuff around, fixing furnitures and organized the content of the kitchen cabinets (Renee).

I had been really lucky to get this place. I rented it from old Mrs. Turnip who lived on the floor above. I had the whole ground floor to myself, with my own separate entrance. It wasn't too expensive, it was roomy, and many furnitures were already here so I hadn't needed to bring too many things. She probably could have gotten much more money for it, but she said she wanted someone quiet and that I reminded her of her granddaughter, and so she gave it to me.

I looked around. I liked the rocking chair in the corner, which I had always had. It had a thick woollen blanket in it, and I liked to think of it as Edward's chair.

Edward would probably continue to avoid me. I felt bad, but there wasn't much I could do about it. But I wasn't perhaps as nervous as I should. Edward always forgave me in the end for all the stupid things I did. He loved me, too, even if he pretended not to sometimes.

Edward was in many ways the number one man of my life. I sniffled. I always did that when thinking about my love life. It was pretty miserable, always had been. Always made me pretty miserable when thinking about it. Not that there was much love life to speak of.

First there had been Daniel Waterbell. From kindergarten. He wanted me to be his girlfriend, and so I was. While playing in the sandbox, he wanted us to kiss, which I had absolutely refused. He left the sandbox, and boyfriended Anabell with the blonde curls instead. Our whole relationship had lasted for about two hours. Probably less.

Then there was James Finch from high school. We were together for almost three years. He was my first serious relationship, or, as serious at it had ever been for me, and there had been many firsts. First date, first prom, first kiss, first time, and first heartbreak. We grew apart; He grew tired, I grew jealous; He dumped me in favour of a girl with long blonde waves, and I cried for a year before I got over it.

Now there was Edward, which was currently ignoring me. And of course, the whole Jacob-Black-puking disaster. That was like a nice cherry on top of a dripping ice dream. And that was it.

If Jacob Black walked by tomorrow with a pretty blonde girl in his arm, the circle would be complete.


	4. Cold

**Cold**

* * *

_I am a rock_

_I am an island_

_And a rock feels no pain_

_And an island never cries._

– Simon & Garfunkel

* * *

Jacob Black. Childhood friend. Annoying, persistent, noisy, boy-bugs-spreading goof.

Great kisser.

The second day after the Day, the incident_, _the puking-disaster, I stayed in bed all day eating chocolate.

The second day somehow became the third.

The third day after, I convinced myself I had a cold, and that it was bad enough for me to not go to school. I stayed home altering between pacing back and forth in front of the phone and eating mac and cheese.

Jacob Black did not call.

The fourth day after, I felt gross and decided to go for a run. I never ran. I ran for about ten minutes, then remembered I had left my phone on the kitchen counter. I was back in three. I stayed inside the rest of the day, fully aware I was being pathetic.

The seventh day after, I realized there was a possibility Jacob Black was not going to call me.

I walked past the solarium twice. I didn't dare go inside, but I stalled on the outside, pretending to read the poster on the rental movie shop next door. And then I heard voices, and then I nearly choked and died out of embarrassment, and then I left. I didn't go back.

I drowned myself in school work. My literature subject was great, and I swallowed it. I probably would have read Sense and Sensibility anyway, required reading or not.

And as much as I would like to think I acted like Elinor, I suspected I really was acting very Marianne.

The days passed and I couldn't forget him. My stomached lurked with that unfamiliar feeling of homesickness which I couldn't quite place. I caught myself looking for him in the streets, peeking inside bars, looking longingly into the buses coming from the area where he lived.

I started noticing people. Brown skinned people. Brown eyed people. Black haired, broad shouldered people. Full lipped, broad nosed, flawless-skinned people. I hit my forehead over and over, sometimes jamming it on the kitchen counter. Stupid, stupid. _This is why you're not supposed to do things like this,_ I told myself. _You always get attached. You never forget. This is silly. Silly silly silly. Just plain stupid. _

The tenth day after, I realized Jacob Black most likely would not call at all. I would not make the mistake of complaining to Angela about this, as she would just set her eyes on me and ask why _I _didn't just call _him_, when I was perfectly able to. Smart girl, Angela.

Slowly, the days returned to normal. The cold passed – I wasn't even sure it had been a cold, only me imagining it – and the days became similar to how they had been _before. _I wasn't similar, I didn't feel similar, but the days were.

The sixteenth day after, Angela and Jessica dragged me out to a coffee shop. They said it would do me good. We sipped some hot drinks and I told Jessica everything. I hadn't told her yet, only Angela. But it was no reason to keep it hidden. Jessica was very excited at first, then very sympathetic at the end.

"Don't worry," she said, taking a sip. "It could always have been worse. You could have, like, puked _on_ him or something. I totally screwed up with this guy once. He was really good looking, and, you know, I was really nervous wanting to talk to him, and I got really drunk trying to get my courage up, maybe a bit too much, and then I just went over and just said 'hi' and then I kind of fell over and had to just run past him into the bathroom. God, that was so embarrassing."

She emptied her latte and then we changed the subject.

Three weeks after, I accepted that Jacob Black was not going to call me ever.

I ate a lot of macaroni with cheese. Or just any type of food with cheese on it, really. I would probably die from too much cheese.

I also started to work again. Since I moved here I had been working about once a week cleaning offices down town. It suited my schedule, I could do it after school, and I needed the money. It was a lonely job, but I liked it that way.

Also, my cold returned. Big time. It didn't really help my self pitying. The first whiff of a cold had just been a sample – then boom, the real deal. I was sniffling my way through the days, slowly getting worse. Even Angela was convinced when I spoke to her – she had been skeptical of me lurching off and pitying myself. But clearly, this cold was not Jacob Black's doing, and so it was approved.

It was one of those days, a cold one, the 26th day after, to be exact. I was cold too, having a cold, and I was just on my way home from work one evening. It was windy and I had wrapped myself up in a scarf. I was tired, and my throat hurt, and I wanted to go home and eat and sleep and be warm. The subway station was crowded with people, everyone waiting and cross and as eager to get home as I was. I needed to take both a subway and bus to get home, but usually I didn't mind. I did now.

The subway arrived and everybody flooded on. I crammed myself inside and was able to snatch a seat. I wasn't going far, only two stops. I looked out the window, content to be inside and done with the day. Maybe I could read something later. One in the pile of books I hadn't even looked at yet. Also, I had bought a squash on my way to the subway and was planning to do adventurous, Renee-like things with it. Maybe stuff it, or fry it, maybe boil it. Put cheese on it … ? No, not cheese. Just one cheese-less meal, I could do that …While thinking about squash, and cheese, and books, I looked around sleepily. Just briefly, just for a second, I turned my head, and then I'm pretty sure I almost got a heart attack.

Tanned, red-brown skin, black, shiny hair, white smile, tall, big, buff –

I looked away. It wasn't him. But it easily could have been. My heart was flying in my chest, and I needed to concentrate on breathing. _It isn't him, _I told myself. _It's not Jacob. Relax. _I sneaked another look, just to make sure. While dreading it, there was also a part of me hoping ._.._ But no. It wasn't him. He wasn't even that similar. Sure, he was black haired, Native American, sitting on the other side opposite me. But he was shorter, bigger, more boyish, (in the stuff-your-face-with-worms-and-laugh way, not the cute way). He wore work-out clothes and he looked cool. Jacob Black looked many things, but he was more _good _looking than _cool _looking. This guy mostly looked just cool. And not particularly similar to Jacob.

He was looking at me though, curiously, a slight smile on his face. Probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

I turned away quickly, furiously staring out the window. All this for nothing. All these days, weeks, and nothing. Just one look, at a person who didn't even have anything to do with Jacob Black, only had the same hair color, and I would go crazy. I hadn't improved at all. I was a mess. Who was I trying to fool? It certainly wasn't working very well.

If my mood was decent before, it was now a complete wreck. I glared out the window, feeling like a thunder storm, and refused to sneak another glimpse of this innocent stranger. Read? No. Soap opera, here I come. I would order pizza. Greasy pizza with loads of cheese on it. And coke. And chocolate. Edward could have the squash.

My station was announced and I stomped my way through the crowd. I vaguely pitied the people in my way; I didn't feel like a pleasant encounter. It was stuffed, and I had to squeeze my way through to the doors. And just as I put a foot on the pavement outside, someone behind bumped into my shoulder making me stagger. I watched, almost in slow motion, as my bag crashed to the ground and all it's content rolled out of it.

I was very close to crying.

"Oh crap," someone muttered behind me.

I didn't turn to see who it was, but dived down trying to rescue my things. There were people everywhere, pressing their way in and out of the subway behind me, stepping on my things, and partly on me as I was crouching down.

Someone crouched down beside me. I looked up. It was the guy from the subway. The not-Jacob guy. This observation did not brighten my mood.

He looked terribly anxious. "I'm sorry," he said.

I looked back down, picking up another pair of books before someone stepped on them too. "I'm really sorry," he said again, as if convinced I hadn't heard him and determined to make up for it. "I didn't see you there. Here, let me help you." He reached for a pencil before it could disappear between the stomping feet.

"It's fine," I mumbled, picking up another pen. I was more annoyed than anything at the moment, and did not wish to speak with this person at all. Even though it wasn't his fault he had made me think of Jacob Black.

"For a second I was afraid I had pushed _you _into the ground as well," he said lightly, holding out a rubber for me to take it. "Lucky it was just the bag."

I certainly did not agree that it was luck that helped him empty my bag all over the station_. _Maybe he sensed that, because he hurried to add "Really, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you. It was very crowded."

I still didn't reply, but reached for another pencil. I wished he would go away.

"Maybe I could make it up to you," he said instead, the hint of a smile on his face. I made an effort not to roll my eyes. He was one of _those._ "I'm Quil." He reached out his hand, right there in the middle of all the surrounding feet. How romantic.

I vaguely shook one of his fingers, then stood up. "I gotta go," I muttered and picked up my bag, making sure I had wallet, phone and keys in my pocket. "Thanks for helping." I actually meant it, but wasn't sure it hadn't sounded sarcastic.

Without another glance at him I wrapped the scarf tighter around me and turned, following the crowd towards the exit. It was probably rude to cut him off like that, but I wasn't in the mood to be nice. And he had knocked my bag down and I just felt like crying. He was gone by the time I had reached the exit.

When I finally got home, I was freezing. I reached the stairs and dragged myself up. It wasn't until I had put the key in the keyhole that I heard it. I froze for a moment, then I wretched the key around, tore the door open and heaved myself at the ringing phone.

"Hello?" I answered, breathless.

"Hi baby, how are you? I haven't heard from you in ages."

My heart sank low down in my stomach.

"Oh. Hi mom."

Of course. I hadn't given _him _this number, or anyone, only mom ever called on the stationary.

"Is everything all right? You sound depressed."

"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

"Are you sure you're okay? I read this book about women and depression, and how when you are actually angry with someone else it is just a way to punish yourself. I can send it to you, there are some amazing exercises in there you should try. But if you're just tired, my acupuncturist tells me that there are many things you can do to increase your flow of energy, you could always try-"

It took half an hour before I was able to hang up. I loved my mother, but right now wasn't a very good time for me to talk to anyone. I sat for a second on the floor in the hallway, staring at the phone before I shook myself and got up. It was time to get this day over with.

I emptied my bag and cleaned all my things that had fallen on the ground. Then I stuffed the squash in the fridge, and I made macaroni with cheese. I made tea too, with honey, and put on some woolen socks, and then I went straight for the TV. Sense and Sensibility couldn't hold my attention now; I already knew what was going to happen; Willoughby was a schmuck and Edward was wonderful and they would all live happily ever after. Better to watch some unrealistic day-time drama.

I couldn't sleep that night. I tried. Didn't work. About half past two, I gave up. I pushed the pillow aside, and stood up in my pyjamas. It was flannel and warm and blue with cats on it and I liked it. The floor was cold. I shuffled to the kitchen to get a glass of water and then felt my way out in the dark living room until I found the couch. There I turned on the TV and huddled under a huge afghan – they sometimes aired old black and white movies at night. Normally Edward would be here too, keeping me company, but he was out hunting.

I usually did this when I couldn't sleep. Watching movies helped. They made me feel better. This time though, my mind was wandering.

I didn't fit. Or at least it didn't feel that way. Maybe I didn't want to fit. Maybe I did, but didn't see it. Maybe I was too soon to judge, maybe I'd have to wait for everything to fall into place. Or maybe I was just homesick. Whatever it was, I felt lonely.

I'm sure everyone, all the people around me, were great. Really, they were. I think. But whoever it was that I spoke to, the girl next to me in class, the guy from the student service, the woman with the education form – we were never quite on the same page. We were never quite like those two puzzles. It was strained, and forced and I hated it. I felt like I had nothing in common with anyone. So while everyone else went out to the club, to drink, dance and do whatever it was that they did and thought was fun, I didn't. Not because I couldn't, I just didn't want to.

It didn't take a genius to realize sitting home alone with Edward didn't help me make tons of friends. I knew that. But I was tired, and depressed, and going home to the old apartment seemed like the only thing my body and mind seemed willing to do these days.

It hadn't been strained with Jacob.

I missed Phoenix like crazy. I wanted nothing else than go home. Not because of the people there, more because of the _place. _I loved Phoenix. The heat, the sun, the buildings. More importantly, it was home. _Home. _I missed Mom. How on earth would she survive out there in the big wide world without me?

I'd never felt more alone than now.

I fell asleep eventually, and when I woke I felt worse than ever. My cold must have doubled over the night – probably something to do with sleeping in a cold room with a thin afghan. My throat was throbbing, refusing me to eat anything but cough syrup and my head felt like a brick. I had also started sneezing, which hurt my throat even more.

Adding this to my already trampled self pity, it didn't last long before I decided to crash completely. I stayed at home the whole day and didn't speak to anyone, apart from Edward, and to be honest I didn't see much of him. The second day was better, until I realized I had run out of cough syrup and throat mints. Putting my hair in a messy bun, wrapping around me three sweaters and the longest scarf I owned, I gathered my courage to take the bus into town to get more.

I spent half the bus ride trying not to sneeze in anybody's personal space. Fun.

It was another grey day, just as grey as the previous. Cold, on the edge of raining. Dragging the hood down over my forehead, I hurried straight to the drugstore.

I bought half the store. At least it felt that way. The buy of the day was definitely a box of throat mints. They were so strong they could take a person out just by breathing on them, and they made my mood brighten considerably. Which is why, on my way back to the bus, I decided to take a quick trip into the nearby store to get some groceries (groceries meaning Coke and a Mars bar). And so I did, happily unaware, sucking on my mints and smiling to myself for the first time in days.

Very bad idea. Very bad indeed.

I went straight for the coke. Then turning purposefully, I strode towards the chocolate shelf, ignoring all the broccoli in my way. I had my eyes fixed on the Mars bars. Bars in plural. Let's have them all. And then, just before I reached the chocolate shelf, a noise caught my attention. I looked up ,for a second staring straight at the familiar face of Jacob Black.

I ducked.

It was stupid and childish. But I did. I ducked down behind the shelf. I dropped the coke too, but caught it before it had made too much noise. Then I pretended to tie the non-existent laces of my sneakers, begging he wouldn't come and find me like this.

No one came patting a hand on my shoulder. No harr-de-harr. No looming shadow.

He hadn't … seen me?

I pretended to fickle with the other shoe too. Still, no loud cough or calling my name.

He hadn't seen me!

Heart throwing itself against my rib cage, I slowly stood up. There was no Jacob to be seen. Or wait. Yes, he was there. And he hadn't seen me.

He had his back to me, a bit further away on the other side of the chocolate shelf. He was weighing a box of macaroni in his hand. I felt myself stare at him, the painful feeling in my chest flaring open. He was wearing a white t-shirt. Wrinkly. A gray shirt. Also wrinkly. He was wearing his black jacket. And he had a scruff.

I felt my leg lift in a zombie-like way, taking a step towards him. Then I caught myself and ducked back down on the floor. Bad idea.

_Do you want to speak to him?_ I asked myself.

Stupid question. _Yes, of course I do, _I answered.

I must be making the most splendid expression on people by the way. Sitting on the floor, nursing a Coke, mimicking words to myself. Not scary at all.

_Do you want to speak to him _like this? I asked myself.

I looked down at my sweats and thought about the hair bun and the life-threatening throat mints.

_No,_ I answered. _Definitely not. _

Okay. So at least I had that figured out. Carefully I got up from the floor before I could attract the personnel, still trying to keep my head low. I peeked up over the shelf one last time before preparing to leave, but to my great horror, Jacob Black was gone.

My heart started racing again. He wasn't there! I looked more closely. I looked down towards the exits. He was nowhere to be seen. Which meant _he could be anywhere. _I twirled, in case he was lurking over my shoulder. He wasn't. He was gone.

I wasn't prepared for the disappointment. My shoulders slumped on their own accord, in spite of me telling them this was for the best. _You don't want to meet him like this! _I repeated in my head, scoffing to myself and trying to convince me that this was what I wanted all along. Carefully looking right and left, I sneaked my way back to the soda and put mine back. Then, looking carefully over my shoulder to see that he wasn't there, I started creeping alongside the beer in the direction of the exit. I could always go in another store later if–

"Oumph," someone said, as I walked straight into something solid. And, as I turned around, I realized I had walked straight into no one else but Jacob. I stared at him, horror struck. He stared back at me. For a frozen moment neither of us moved.

Then his eyes lit up. "Bella," he said. "Hi."

He sounded surprised, no wonder. I was still staring. I wished I would stop. _I must look like a crazy person._

"Sorry," I managed to croak out. Why would I lose my voice now, why, why?

"No problem," he smiled nervously. He stepped a little to the side, as to not block the way for other costumers.

"What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly.

"Erm," he said. "Shopping."

_Gee. _I mentally smacked my forehead. Hard.

"You?" he added after a pause, as if hoping there was a reason why I would ask such a stupid question.

I nodded and grinned widely. "Yeah, me too. He he."

In pure fever I grabbed something from the nearest stack to prove my point, as if I needed evidence. Jacob's ears reddened. I looked down. I had grabbed a pack of tampons.

"So, how are you?" I asked a little too brightly while hiding the tampons behind my back, eager to smooth out the awkwardness.

He looked embarrassed. _Awkward,_ I thought.

"Er. Good," he answered. For some reason he didn't look convincing. There was another pause. "And you?"

I nodded. "Great."

Another pause.

"Look," he started, looking down at his shoes. "I – er …"

He looked away, up, down, anywhere but on me and it hit me how weird he was acting. How awkward this whole encounter really was – there was nothing easy and effortless about _this_. And with a pang I realized. He hadn't called. Of course, there was a reason for that. _He just isn't that into you, _I told myself. _You're being pushy. Stupid, stupid. _Jacob Black just didn't like me. He had no wish to see me again. He had no reason to call. And now he had run into me, and felt bad about it, like he needed to explain himself.

I certainly had no intentions of getting dumped twice.

"I get it," I hurried to say, forcing a smile. For some reason, I managed a convincing one. I was usually best in a crisis, while hopeless everywhere else. Clearly, this classified as crisis. "Look, it was great seeing you again and all," I said. "But it's cool. I'll see you around."

I deliberately stepped past him and started walking towards the exit, knowing very well that we both knew we would probably never see each other again. The thought made me extremely sad.

I only reached the beginning of the toothpaste.

"Hey, wait," he called out after me. When I turned, he was following me with hurried steps. He looked a little distressed, and when he reached me he spoke in a low voice.

"Look, it's not like that." He looked around, then at me. His eyes were anxious. "I meant to call you and all, I just … Sorry."

"Jacob, it's fine-"

"No, listen," he interrupted. "I mean it. I'm glad I bumped into you. Do you want to grab a coffee sometime?"

"Sure," I dragged. The lies must be piling up to his knees by now.

For some reason, he smiled. "You're really hard to convince, you know. Okay, are you free now?"

I felt my eyebrows lift in shock. "Now?"

_I look like hell I look like hell I look like hell. _

He nodded, studying me. "Yeah. If you want to."

"I have a cold," I hurried to say and pointed at my throat. It was true, even. I did have a cold, and it was a mean one, and I felt bad as it was. Though, truth to be told, I had forgotten all about it for the last five minutes or so.

"Oh," Jacob said. His face fell. I felt immediately guilty. "You sure you're not up for it?"

I looked around uneasily, wondering how to get out of this one. I _wanted _to, of course I did, I just didn't think_ he _wanted to, but if he didn't, then why would he ask, and then I couldn't because I felt really bad, and I had killer mints and gross hair and three sweaters and my sweats were even dirty from sitting on the store floor, and -

"Okay then," I said weakly, and all of these perfectly good reasons _not _to say yes fell short. "One cup."

Jacob smiled so brightly that every bit of soar throat was worth it. I sneaked the pack of tampons back on a shelf when he didn't see.

And so, only seconds after being certain never to see the guy again, we were going out to drink coffee. The beauty and the beast, the beast being me, with ghostly skin, gross hair and blue circles under my eyes, armed with killer mints. First I puke, and now this. Completely unprepared to face half an hour of awkward pauses and a fumbling (but justified) explanation of absent phone calls. This was bound to be the weirdest non-date in history. Because that was what this was – it was certainly _not_ a date.

I knew, as soon as I accepted, or maybe as soon as I ran into him while trying to avoid him, that all hopes of the two of us getting things back on track where we left them were non existent. That simply wouldn't happen, coffee or no coffee. My sickly appearance today just strengthened that fact, and I knew, as soon as he saw me, as soon as he started to explain, avoid my gaze, to justify - that was it. There would never be anything more between us. We were childhood friends, and he was nice, and I was awkward, and that was it.

Jacob smiled as I followed him to the exit. _Welcome to Friendville. We hope you will enjoy your stay._

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_A.N: A huge thank you to JJTwi1ight who betaed! And to all of you who reviewed. Reviews make me happy :)_


	5. Friendville

_A.N:_

_Many grateful thank you's to JJTwi1ight, who is superfast by the way, and has helped me with this one as well. _

_Oh, and just a comment. In this one Bella is drinking hot toddy, which where I come from is a kind of warm juice or tea that is very good for a sore throat, but I had a bit difficulty translating it. So, if this means something else where you come from, or perhaps it doesn't mean anything at all, that's what I meant ..._

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**Friendville**

* * *

Studying people in public was always fun. While some were clearly on their first date, others could be long time married. Some people didn't know each other very well and found the whole situation awkward, some shuffled a lot and were so restless it seemed impossible to sit still for more than five seconds at a time. Then there were the ones who blabbered and rambled along loudly, and then there were the ones who sat together in comfortable silence.

If someone was studying Jacob and me, I wondered what they would think.

Jacob seemed at ease, sitting calmly opposite me and taking huge sips from his cup of coffee. We were sitting by the window in a tiny coffee shop, which had free refill – that's how he knew it.

I couldn't sit still. My feet were constantly jumping with nerves.

I had ordered hot toddy, which made Jacob laugh. When I argued that I was ill and my throat hurt, he just smiled and chuckled into his cup. I had already warned him about my strong throat mints, which had made his eyes tear up twice already. The steam from my toddy didn't help the matter much either. To strangers it might have looked like he was crying as he pinched his eyes together under his hand, though I could hear him struggling to keep the laughter back. I would have been embarrassed, if we hadn't already experienced much, much worse together. And after all, I was already in Friendville, so there wasn't anything to mess up or be embarrassed about. Instead I abandoned my defenses with a heavy sigh, which didn't really help the matter, only made his eyes tear up again.

Apart from talking about my reasons to drink toddy, we didn't really speak. Not until he had finished half his cup. I stirred in my cup, taking a sip now and then. The long, awkward pause was getting a good grip. I was just thinking that it couldn't get more awkward than this. Then I sneezed.

"Oh-my-God-I'm-so-sorry," I rasped, watching in horror as he wiped his forehead discretely.

"It's fine," he said politely, looking down. I swear I could hear another chuckle. Not sure if it was him or the person behind him, though. _Just kill me now. _There was another pause, where I deeply hoped a hole would open in the ground for me to throw myself in. No such thing happened. Finally, Jacob leaned forward in his chair, put his elbows on the table, and looked at me.

"How are you, Bella?" he asked seriously.

I sent him a long look. A brief smile crossed his face. "Apart from the cold," he added.

I fastened a smile to my face and shrugged. "Apart from the cold, I'm fine. Great, really. It's been a lot going on lately, with school and work and friends and everything, I've had loads to do. It's just gone so fast, you know, with so much to do and … But I've been really great. I'm great right now, I mean, everything feels just perfect. I'm fine."

I smiled, and made an effort to make it convincing. Then I took a sip of my toddy, almost choked, coughed a few times, and tried to appear at ease.

Jacob looked at me for a long moment. "You're a really bad liar," he finally said.

I frowned down in my toddy. "I'm not lying," I mumbled. "I'm fine. Why shouldn't I be?" There was another pause. I stirred in my toddy and refused to look up.

"Would it help if I start?" Jacob said quietly, leaning forward and trying to catch my eyes without luck. "I've been miserable."

"You have?" I looked up, hoping he hadn't noticed my hopeful tone.

The hint of a smile ran over his face. "Yeah." Now he was the one looking down in his cup, avoiding my gaze. "Since, you know. What happened. I just – I felt bad that it ended like it did, with, you know ..."

There was another brief pause. I decided to help him out.

"Do you mean with me puking down your entire bathroom?" I supplied in a whisper.

He laughed, and his eyes met mine. "Yes, that too. But that's not what I meant. I mean, when you left, and it was just – weird. I wanted to call you right away, but I didn't know what to say. And then – well, some things happened and I couldn't call." He looked down again. I had the distinct feeling there was something he didn't want to tell me. "That's why I'm really glad I bumped into you now," he finished.

He leaned forwards over the small table, his arms nearly touching mine. He was looking at me, his eyes bright, and it would have been so easy to just fall, to believe that it meant something more, as if our past encounter had never happened. But it had, and he knew, and I knew, and I looked at him longingly all the way from Friendville. He was in the City of Lost Boys now.

"Please don't be mad at me for not calling," he said with a slight smile, peeking up at me. His eyes were concerned, almost anxious. And there, deep down, I recognized the same little boy I had known so many years ago, asking me please not to be mad at him for putting worms in my jar of color pencils.

I smiled at the resemblance. "I'm not mad. I haven't been mad either." I stirred in my cup. "I thought about stepping by your place and, I dunno, talk. Apologize. But I didn't know if you would want that so I didn't."

_Also, I'm a coward. _I didn't say that.

"Well, it was good you didn't," he said, leaning a bit back in his chair. "I don't live there any more, so …" He moved his gaze to his coffee and didn't finish.

"Oh," I said, embracing this new, safe subject. "You've been moving?" I immediately felt much better for him not calling me. He had been busy!

Jacob still didn't look up. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" I frowned, wondering what he meant by that. Maybe I was being too pushy. This wasn't really any of my business. But still …

"Yeah, er ..." Jacob looked uncomfortable. He stopped, as if deciding whether or not to say something. Then he sighed. "The guy I rented it from sort of kicked me out."

Oops. Yep. Definitely too pushy. But I was curious, too.

"But why?" I asked, frowning.

Jacob just shrugged. "No reason," he mumbled.

I frowned even more. His evasiveness surprised me. And I got slightly annoyed with this unknown guy he was talking about. I remembered he had mention him once before, like I had memorized _all _our conversations, and how Jacob had described him as an idiot.

"But he can't just kick you out with no explanation," I croaked, more confident now when we were back on a harmless subject. I sipped my toddy. "He needs to have a legitimate reason."

Jacob just shrugged.

"But he does!" I insisted. "Or he has no right to kick you out. Why would he do that, anyway? It's not right."

It was meant as a rhetorical question, but Jacob answered anyway.

"I couldn't pay the rent," he said quietly, taking a sip from his coffee and looking thoughtfully out the window.

"Oh." I shrunk back in my seat as I realized my blunder. So much for a safe subject. "Sorry," I added.

Jacob looked at me briefly, smiling. "It's not your fault the garage had to close."

"The garage?"

"Where I work. Worked," he corrected himself.

"Oh." His job. Of course. "Sorry," I repeated.

He looked up again, another smile. "Not your fault."

"I didn't mean to snoop," I clarified. Then I pressed my lips together, intent on not saying anything else. I had thoroughly wrecked this conversation. I would never speak again. Jacob obviously didn't feel like saying a whole lot on the subject either, so we sat in silence for a few minutes. Jacob looked out the window and I sneaked glances at Jacob. My toddy was nearly empty.

I was thinking. About what he'd just told me. Losing his place, and job. And then I thought about me, sitting at home wailing in front of the phone. I felt stupid. And terribly selfish. I sneaked another glance at him. He was sitting calmly in front of me, his hands folded around his empty cup, looking thoughtfully out the window. Probably thinking about when it would be polite to call it a night.

I remembered something, from the same memorized conversation as earlier (God I was pathetic). It was _that _night, just before we left that place, and he had said his apartment was a dump, but also cheap. But if he couldn't afford the apartment, the cheap one…

I pressed my lips more tightly together and looked down at my now slightly lukewarm toddy. I had promised my self not to blunder into something else and not say more on the subject. It was private, and it was none of my business. And Jacob obviously didn't feel like talking about it.

But I couldn't help it.

"So." I said it lightly, trying to sound small-talk like. "Do you live with relatives then, or friends?" I didn't want to poke, I told myself. I only wanted to know that he was all right and settled.

Jacob continued to gaze out the window, not meeting my eyes. It was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. "Not exactly."

He was evasive again, and I frowned. I should take the hint, I should. It was probably just a matter of time before he told me to shut up and leave him the hell alone. I wouldn't blame him.

"Look I don't mean to poke or anything, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but …" I hesitated, clutching the toddy between my hands, unsure how to put it. "You have somewhere to stay, right?" I was fully aware I was crossing the line here.

"Sure sure," he said quickly, not offering any information.

"But if it's not with relatives or friends, then … where?" I asked, bewildered. Surely, a hotel would be out of the question.

He sighed heavily, still not meeting my gaze. "You don't stop, do you?" He told his cup, smiling vaguely. He peeked up at me, and realized I was still waiting for him to reply. He looked back down, and said nothing for a long time. He took his time, waiting for me to say something perhaps, but finally he answered my question. "I've slept in my car a couple of days," he mumbled quickly, as if hoping I wouldn't hear. "Just temporarily. I'm looking for a place to stay, I'll find one any time now. I've considered moving out of town too, it's cheaper there. Only problem about that is getting a job. It's not so much available."

It took me a second.

"You've slept in your car?" I asked quietly, focusing on the one thing he tried not to draw attention to. He didn't reply immediately, but kept poking at a coffee stain on the table.

"It's nothing. I'll get a job any time now. I've applied to a bunch."

"It´s too cold to sleep in a car this time of year." It was the first thing on my mind.

He smiled to the coffee stain. "Not if I leave the heat on."

"You'll make the battery go flat."

"I´ll manage."

We sat together in silence for a moment. I didn't know what to say.

"But your friends …?"

"They're already helping me out. And they have enough on their minds as it is," he said dryly, clearly referring to something I didn't know. I was on the edge of asking what on earth _that _could be, but stopped as that really would sound snoopy.

"But why don't you just move back home for a while?" I said carefully, testing the waters. "I'm sure your dad would –"

"He doesn't know," Jacob said shortly. His tone was firm. This was a closed subject. And for once, I didn't investigate.

Afraid that I had tested the waters a bit too much, I tried to make up for myself. "I'm sorry. This is none of by business."

Jacob just smiled and shook his head. "Don't apologize." For a moment, I thought he looked embarrassed.

I felt stupid and selfish and like a really mean person for bringing up all the wrong things and not taking the hints. And I thought, maybe there was something I _could _do to help, to make up for this train wreck of a conversation, the killer mints, and for puking down his bathroom, and generally being awkward. And then I thought that I knew of one thing _I _would like very much, so why not …

And then I did something very stupid.

"Hey, you could always crash with me for a while if you want," I offered.

Jacob looked at me with baffled, dubious eyes. I could feel the blush creep onto my face.

"I mean", I hurried to clarify, "you could use the couch. I have a whole floor to myself, so there's enough space."

He still looked dubious. And very serious, all of a sudden. And a little scary, actually.

"If you want," I added in a small voice.

Jacob looked at me for one more second, then he shook his head shortly and looked down. "No."

I was taken aback by this sharp refusal. I didn't manage a reply.

He looked up at me again, and he elaborated. "I don't want you to do that. I don't want you to feel like you need to help me out."

I frowned. I hadn't meant it like _that. _"I don't feel like I _have_ to help you," I clarified. It felt like I had to clarify everything today. "I just thought that … you know, I could help you out, because I want to. Like a friend," I added, in case the message didn't go through the first time. Maybe he thought I was trying to lure him in so that I could snuggle on him or something. No wonder his tone was so sharp.

Jacob shook his head firmly one more time. "No. I don't want you to feel sorry for me."

I sighed. I was getting annoyed. Jacob was being very difficult, and my throat had started hurting from all the talking. "But I don't feel _sorry_ for you," I said. "You don't get it at all."

He just shook his head and started determined out the window. "No."

I felt my eyebrows lift, and I gave up. "Fine," I said, a little offended by his sharp tone. His refusal stung. I had only tried to be nice. By all means.

Jacob sent me a sideways glance. "It's just that I don't want you to feel like you have to offer it," he said again.

"And I said that's not what I meant," I said back. It might have come across a little sharper than I intended. I wondered if it would be rude if I started to put my scarf back on. My throat hurt, and I wanted to go home and move back into my pajamas. And eat chocolate. Or something cheesy. And just be disgusting, really.

Jacob turned towards me. "Look," he said, his eyes concerned. "It's not because I don't _want_ to. It's just … but if you're sure that's not the reason why you … "

I sighed. My killer mint was long gone now, so his eyes didn't tear up this time.

He sensed my irritation. "Hey, I didn't mean to be rude, I just thought … But it wasn't because I didn't want to, I mean, of course not. I didn't mean it like that," Jacob finished. He leaned closer over the table, his eyes apologetic. _Please don't me mad I put worms in your lunch box._ He paused, as if to think, then added. "I didn't mean that at all. No, it would have been great, actually."

My stomach jumped. Then my brain caught up with me. Oh. Of course.

"You shouldn't say that just because you think you have to." If he was to his knees in lies earlier, this was beyond the top of his head.

He looked surprised. "I'm not. I mean it. It would have been great."

I frowned at him, suspicious. He must be joking with me. "Are you serious?"

He looked amused. "Are you?"

"Well, yeah."

A smile played in his face. "Are you sure?"

I shrugged, nodding

"Really?" he said again.

I sighed, exasperated. I felt tired. It felt like we had spent the last thirty minutes arguing. _Great first non-date. _I wanted to go home. "Are you saying yes or no?"

Jacob hesitated, and I could see a flash of temptation in his eyes. He scratched his forehead. Then he held his breath for a second, then – "Yes," he said, hesitantly, as if waiting for my reaction. He was looking at me, and there was that boyish expression again. "But I'm paying rent," he added quickly.

"Mhm" I said absentmindedly. I was in shock. But I was too tired and sore throated too really act on it. It was a strange feeling. Like in a dream, somewhere, far away.

Did we just agree that Jacob Black should move in … with me?

Jacob Black?

Me?

Oh my god. My place looked like hell.

And I hardly knew him.

Except I did.

He put worms in my lunch box, I puked in his bathroom. You could say we were even.

We stared at each other for a little while. Then he started laughing.

"Okay, then," he said, as if that settled the matter. "You have veto rights, just so you know. You can throw me out whenever you want."

"Okay," I heard myself say. Jacob Black. Move in with me? I suddenly remembered that it was my own suggestion. How on earth had I come up with that? "But I'm probably a horrible person to live with." He deserved a fair warning.

Jacob smiled slightly. "For some reason I don't think I believe you."

For a second, I was thrilled. Oh my. He had said yes. To move in. On my couch. My stomach, previously jumping, had frozen, mid air. Still in shock.

No more night-time movies. No more soap opera. No more slumbering sweats and greasy take away. No more cheese or Coke. Oh my. My second life had just begun. The _civilized _one.

Funny, that. This morning, I had tried to forget him, during lunch I had tried to avoid him, and now he was to be sleeping on my couch. My life wasn't usually this unpredictable.

And then I thought, more dryly, that this was just typical. I had, in just minutes, moved from Embarrassing Encounter to Childhood Friend to no other than Roomie. _The Girl In Sweats Which Couch I Sleep On. _Great.

There seemed to be no train connection to the City of Lost Boys after all.


End file.
